This Game We Play (1/3)

Look what I’m doing because of you guys! Instead of studying I wrote this! I blame you all! >:|

This Game We Play - Part 1
Kon/Catboy!Tim

Tim enjoyed a good theft. The act was invigorating, heart-pumping and thrilling. Nothing felt better than sneaking passed the most state-of-the-art security system and walking out with a couple million dollars worth of diamonds right underneath their noses.

He was stealthy, he was agile, he was smart. He was pretty damn good at what he did. There wasn’t a jewelry shop he couldn’t break into, a lock he could not pick or even a security alarm he could not hack and disable. Catwoman may have taught him well, but Tim knew a few tricks up his sleeve.

“Alright, that makes a thousand,” he said as he stuffed the last of the rubies into his back pouch.

With a merry tune, Tim skipped his way out of the vault, did a little wave at the camera which he knew would not be recording him, before strolling his way through the front door.

“All in day’s work,” he said, grinning.

“Stop right there,” said an unfamiliar voice behind him. Tim froze, but only for just a moment.

If there was anything Catwoman drilled into him the first time she took him in, it was that he should never let his pursuers know that they had caught him off guard.

With his hands clasped behind him, Tim turned around.

Standing before him was a tall boy with dark, tangled hair, built arms and a toned chest, which on any other day Tim might have found the slightest bit distracting (and hot) if not for the part when his eyes finally caught up to everything else. The thick leather jacket, the red gloves, the earrings, and the fact that the S-Shield was all out on display for the world to see—it was a solid indication who it was that caught Tim unaware.

He’d never encountered Superman before during any of his burglaries. There was the police and then Batman and Robin, but Catwoman had all but taught him how to avoid them easily (She called it ‘personal experience’ or whatever. Tim hadn’t thought to ask what she meant by that).

He’d never thought he’d bump into Superboy, of all people.

“May I help you with something?” Tim asked politely. In his head, he was reciting Step 1 for whenever you get caught off guard: distract the enemy.

Superboy smiled. It was the kind of smile a predator wore right before pouncing on their prey.

“Yes, you can actually,” he said. “In fact, why don’t you return the jewels you stole and come quietly while I escort you to the nearest police station?”

Step 2: Look for alternative exits. Tim had spotted at least 5 in the time it took Superboy to finish his sentence.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Tim innocently, taking a step back.

Superboy narrowed his eyes and took a step forward. “I know you damn well do,” he said. “And if you want to avoid getting your ass kicked, I’d just you cooperate.”

Step 3: Create a distraction.

Tim laughed. “Kick my ass?” he snorted. He was already reaching into his back pocket for a gas grenade. His smile was thin as he said, “I’d like to see you try.”

Part 2